


Contre-Jour

by Daltarian



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Solid Atem, platonic if you squint, that's a big squint though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daltarian/pseuds/Daltarian
Summary: Contre-jour(“against daylight”):a photographic technique in which the camera is pointing directly toward a source of light.The gold of afternoon gives Atem a striking silhouette, the curtains parting like doors against the sun.…likestonedoors.Atem, outlined in blinding light –Yuugi can’t breathe.





	Contre-Jour

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a rumination on the ending but from a post-canon fix it perspective instead of total post-canon angst. It’s meant to tie in to another story I’m writing about Yuugi taking a third option after Dark Side of Dimensions to retrieve Atem from the afterlife, but that isn’t finished yet. So, context: this is a good chunk post-DSoD, and both are 20 or so here. Thanks to aforementioned third option shenanigans, Atem is a flesh-and-blood human with Kaiba-derived fake ID.
> 
> Warning: Someone has something approaching a panic attack in this one. If that is a trigger for you, be careful.

“It will be good to finally have an unpacked apartment. I think Jounouchi is starting to get upset that we haven’t invited him over for dinner yet.” **  
**

Yuugi wouldn’t admit it if asked, but he’s only half-listening. It’s a warm afternoon and they’ve been working on unpacking the apartment all day - Atem is just hanging those new gray curtains that Yuugi’s mother sent, and the bedroom will be finished. He’s considering rewarding himself for all this productivity with a nap.

Atem lets out a satisfied hum as he steps gracefully off the chair, curtains closed and hung neatly. “After I’m done with class tomorrow, perhaps we could have our friends over. Assuming you still have the day off?”

Yuugi realizes he’s been asked a question, and glances up from his deep contemplation of the afternoon’s napping possibilities. “Huh? Yeah, that–”

Atem opens the curtains with a dramatic snap, letting sunlight stream into the room and startling Yuugi with the sudden brightness. The gold of afternoon gives Atem a striking silhouette, the curtains parting like doors against the sun.

…like  _stone_  doors.

Atem, outlined in blinding light –

Yuugi can’t breathe.

He feels a chill on his spine, the coldness of a tomb, but he can’t seem to turn from that awful image. There is the terrible ringing of  _silence_  inside his head, silence where a companion lived, all the louder for its nonexistence. Spots flicker and dance across his vision, and that emptiness presses on his lungs until all the air feels squeezed out of him.

He is dimly aware that someone is speaking to him, but his thoughts are spinning in circles and it’s hard to pay attention to anything else.

“-ner, are you –? Partner? …Yuugi?”

Yuugi squints against the tunnel encroaching on his vision, turning toward that voice. A figure looms in front of him, finally blocking enough of the light for him to see its face. It looks worried for some reason - for a brief moment even panicked - if he could think straight he’d ask it what’s wrong, but he can’t seem to find any air.

Strong hands settle on his shoulders and the voice is one he knows. “ **Breathe** , partner.” He tries, pushes against the weight on his lungs, and the flickering recedes a little. The voice speaks again, confident, commanding. “That’s it, good. Exhale… and now inhale.”

He follows the instructions, slowly emerging from the dizziness over the next few breaths, until Atem - because it’s Atem, he’s capable of understanding that now - seems to trust him to keep managing it on his own.

The other leans over him, tanned hands lying careful on his shoulders, ready to retreat or support. “Can you tell me what you need?” His voice is cautious, soft, like speaking to a frightened animal. Yuugi feels like he might not be far off the mark on that one.

Yuugi leans his head to the side, pushing his cheek into one of those hands. He reaches for Atem’s shirt and clutches, too shaky to pull, but thankfully Atem steps forward enough so Yuugi can press his ear against his chest. There’s a beat there, elevated maybe, but strong and steady.

Atem is here, Atem has a heartbeat, Atem is… asking him a question. “What day is it? On the calendar?”

The calendar? Why does that matter now? Yuugi thinks for a moment and answers. “It’s the 12th. Sunday.” That silence is still ringing in his mind. No one’s brain should be so  _quiet_  when their thoughts are spinning so madly.

“Can you name the cards you’ve got in your deck, partner?”

Huh. He supposes he can, if he thinks about it. He just built it last week. “Drowning Mirror Force. Gaia Plate. Resurrection of the Dead - ” He remembers the golden chest, the ankh, the final blow - that  _light_  -

Atem makes an encouraging noise, and Yuugi remembers he still has a question to answer. His deck, right. “Block Dragon, Release from Stone, Aroma Jar…” By the time he’s halfway through, that awful emptiness has faded, dispelled by his own distracted mumbling and the steady thump of a heartbeat. It’s swiftly replaced by mortification.

He stops naming cards and groans in embarrassment, curling further into Atem’s chest to avoid having to look at him. To his credit, Atem doesn’t laugh or even chuckle. “All right now, Yuugi?”

He nods into Atem’s shirt awkwardly, words muffled against the loose fabric. “Yes... sorry you had to see that.”

Atem lets out a small grunt of disagreement and curls an arm gently around his back. The embrace is reassuring, settling some of his still jangling nerves. “We never have to hide from each other, partner.”

Yuugi winces as his own words are thrown back at him. It’s enough to make him lean back and finally look up into those concerned eyes. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Atem shakes his head in dismissal. “That doesn’t matter. How many times have you done this for me, now?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course; they’re not keeping score, here. He tries to deflect. “It’s nothing. I just… remembered something.”

Atem’s eyes narrow slightly, and it’s clear the lie won’t pass unchallenged. “It’s not nothing, Yuugi. Did something trigger it?”

Shit, he’s caught. Yuugi was hoping to never have to bring this up, it’s so ridiculous - he feels like a child. “It was… the light. And the curtains. You were silhouetted - you looked -”

He doesn’t need to finish before Atem’s eyes widen in understanding. “…Ah. Well, then.” He lets go of Yuugi, but offers him a hand instead, a clear invitation to stand. Yuugi takes it. Atem continues, “How about we make some tea? Then we can sit down and figure this out.”

At least he’ll have a little time to sort out his thoughts. “Tea sounds nice, yes. Do we have to talk about it, though?”

Atem is already headed out toward the kitchen. “Yes.”

_Damn._

~~~

Making the tea is surprisingly comforting. It’s domestic, pleasant even, despite neither of them being particularly skilled at brewing tea. By the time Atem sets the tray on the table, Yuugi almost feels ready to talk about this.

They settle on the couch, and for a brief moment Yuugi is pleased they decided to go for the biggest one in the store. It means he can stretch out without crushing anyone or having to drape his legs over the armrest, and he takes advantage now. (He also steals the opportunity to put his head in Atem’s lap, because it’s comfortable and he appreciates the closeness. Atem raises a brow at him - he can’t exactly drink his tea this way - but whatever.)

Yuugi’s not sure where to start, and Atem doesn’t seem to be either, so it takes a while before either of them says anything. Eventually, though, Atem puts his tea down and looks down at Yuugi. He’s wearing a serious face, almost grim, so Yuugi prepares to explain why he never mentioned having… difficulties.

Atem manages to surprise him. “I hurt you, Yuugi. When I left.”

Yuugi instinctively frowns and tries to negate it. It’s not Atem’s fault that he– that he had to go, that destiny made him go. That Yuugi struck him down and sent him away. “No, you didn’t mean - ”

Atem interrupts him, a bit sharply. Perhaps this is hard for him to talk about, too. “I did, hurt you. At the time, there weren’t better choices, but I did. We should have discussed it when we had the chance.”

Yuugi blinks. This conversation is not going where he thought it’d go. He hesitates as he thinks over their discussion that night on the ship… or lack thereof. “Yeah, we probably should have. I guess we never really  _talked_  about what it meant, did we?”

Atem lets out a soft huff, the kind he makes when mocking his own decisions. “No. I suspect you were avoiding thinking about it in much detail, just as I was.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Yuugi shifts slightly and meets those dark eyes again while he thinks it over. “I think… it wasn’t just that we were avoiding the subject. I think maybe we got so used to knowing each other without talking, we sort of… forgot that we needed to.”

Atem mulls that one himself a bit. “I think you’re right, partner. But if it’s still bothering you this much, maybe we should fix part of that now.”

“Now? You mean… talk about what happened then?” Yuugi isn’t really sure he wants to do this. There’s still anxiety thrumming in him now, after everything. It’s not easy to discuss killing your best friend.

Atem seems to have no such trouble, though. “Yes.” He lifts a hand to run it gently through Yuugi’s hair, playing with one of the blond strands while he talks. “I didn’t leave the living world because I  _wanted_  to. There just wasn’t… the other option was unacceptable. Even with Zorc shattered, the Items were...”

Yuugi nods in agreement. “Yeah, I know. Plus you being trapped in the Puzzle for eternity, unable to move on - it wasn’t a fate anyone would want.”

Atem hums thoughtfully, shaking his head. “That’s true. But that wasn’t all of why. Those things were my duty, but not… not the real reason I had to go.”

“What do you mean?” Yuugi’s definitely unsure now. He’d always thought it was only that sense of duty which drove Atem to leave, even if his method of sealing the Items hadn't been quite right. Though… maybe some things about that theory didn’t make sense.

Atem looks hesitant for a moment, before shaking it off and pushing forward with his usual directness. “I didn’t want to steal your life from you. You were sharing everything with me, partner. Things that… weren’t mine to take. I couldn’t be so selfish as to demand them of you for a lifetime.”

Yuugi thinks that he might actually have been okay with that. But it doesn’t matter now, so he doesn’t need to say it. “So you left… you chose to fight the Duel because you thought you were…”

“…A parasite. I was a ghost, and you would have given up your dreams for mine, partner. How many times did having me with you nearly kill you? How many wounds did you bear for my sake?” Atem grits his teeth now, staring across the room at nothing. Yuugi recognizes self-loathing on his face - something he’d never much associated with Atem, all outward pride and royal confidence.

Okay, he’s got to stop this train leaving the station. He reaches up to touch Atem’s chin, guiding his gaze back down. “I did all those things because they were  _worth it_ , other half. You were worth it.” After a few slip ups with his old phrasing - Atem is definitely not his ‘other me’ any longer - he adapted it slightly. Now it’s a pet name, an overly sappy joke between them, and he catches a tiny smirk when he uses it. Good, it’s a start. “Not to mention the whole, saving the world multiple times. Seems like it’s worth a few bruises.”

He doesn’t stop long enough to let Atem argue with him on this one. “I never thought you  _wanted_  to leave us. Even if you had to. It’s why I made so sure to prove I’d be alright.”

“Prove? You mean…”

Yuugi nods. “I took you on in that Duel for a lot of reasons. One of them was that I didn’t think anyone else could beat you, sure. Maybe Kaiba,” and now Atem looks vaguely offended so he better hurry up with his point here, “but probably not. But I also wanted to show you that you didn’t need to stay and save me. That I could… that what you’d taught me was enough for me to be on my own. I needed to  _know_  that, but I also had to  _show_  you that. So that you wouldn’t worry.”

Atem is shaking his head now, looking amused. “It seems we really should have had this conversation a long time ago, partner.”

Yuugi chuckles lightly. It is vaguely amusing, in a bittersweet sort of way. But this next part will be harder. “I did, you know. Go on without you, I guess. I was strong enough, but… that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, every day.”

Dark eyes watch him with that all too familiar worry. “Partner…”

Yuugi has to keep going or he’ll never finish, so he barrels on ahead. He didn’t really want to talk about this part, but now it seems like he  _needs_  to. There needs to be honesty between them. “Anzu and Grandpa somehow managed to convince me to see a grief counselor, actually.”

Atem makes a soft noise of distress and leans down, pulling Yuugi further into his lap. Yuugi doesn’t mind being closer at all. 

He continues, “It was really hard to talk about. I didn’t want to… to burden anyone, or be seen as weak like I used to be. And… I couldn’t talk about a lot of things with someone who wasn’t there with us.” He swallows, the first hint of a sob welling up in his throat. Damn it, he’d promised himself not to cry. “How could I tell anyone that I felt like I’d killed my best friend, when there was never any proof said best friend ever existed in the first place?”

Atem breathes out in shock, eyes wide, mouth open. “Oh, partner,  **no** … Don’t ever think…”

“ **I**  was the one that beat you, Atem.  **I**  used that Sarcophagus,  **I**  told Silent Magician to finish it. It was necessary and we both knew it, sure, we had really good reasons, fine, but there was still a part of me that felt like I’d _shoved_ you right through that door _myself_. And then had to be  **all right**  with it like everyone got what they wanted!” Definitely tears, now. Fuck, this was not supposed to go this way.

Strong arms pull him up and fold him in, and it’s the second time in an hour he’s had his face pressed into Atem’s chest. A soft, choked sound at least tells him he’s not the only one having trouble with his composure. “Partner, no, no, don’t… It wasn’t that way, you helped me, you let me go - I was so  _proud_  of you. I was  _grateful_ , but you- You took that burden and carried it…" He can feel Atem's hard swallow. "...all this time?”

Yuugi sniffs and decides that maybe a few tears are acceptable in this situation. “I– I had to. Like you said, there wasn’t another way. Not right then.” He swallows, feeling like something in him has burst, grief and anger draining away and leaving him… clean. And, somehow, calm. He finally shifts to sit up fully, slinging his legs across Atem’s lap so he can lean on one arm of the couch and actually face him. “After a little while, it– it wasn’t as bad as I’m making it sound.”

Atem is squinting at him now, still upset and clearly not believing that last one. Yuugi presses on. “No, really. I knew your story…  _our_  story, had ended. I had accepted that - well, was accepting it, it was a process, don’t glare at me like that - and I was moving on. It just took some time to… I hadn’t figured out yet where to go with  _my_  story. Up until the thing with Kaiba, and Aigami.”

Yuugi feels Atem’s hard breath, his stiffness at the mention of the name. Atem had never really forgiven Diva for what he’d tried to do, still felt the Pharaoh’s rage at someone who would cross such lines. He lifts a hand to Atem’s shoulder and squeezes lightly, supporting, and eventually the muscles beneath him relax. Good, hopefully now they can both be calm.

He should finish his point. “After all  _that_ , well. Seeing you disappear… again, was hard. But that time - that time I knew where to go next. I  **fixed**  it,” and he raps his knuckles against the solid muscle of Atem’s arm for emphasis.

There’s a bit of a pause before Atem responds; Yuugi suspects he’s collecting himself after the tears he'll never admit to. But when he does, there’s a wry humor in his tone. “This bit I know, partner. I was there.”

Yuugi chuckles, mostly in relief that they’ve gotten past the hard part. “That was the point, wasn’t it?”

Atem rolls his eyes and clears his throat. “Yes, well. The period we were separated wasn’t all that simple for me, either.”

Wait, what? Atem never talks about his time in the netherworld, always dodges the subject. He fixes the ex-Pharaoh with a look of concern. “What do you mean?”

Atem sighs and leans into him, averting his gaze. Yuugi’s noticed he does that a lot when he’s admitting what he thinks is a weakness. “The afterlife wasn’t as simple as everyone made it out to be. Time, or I suppose the perception of time was… skewed, there.” He hums, absently moving a hand to rest against Yuugi’s back. “I had a lot of adjusting to do. People I hadn’t seen in three millennia, who talked to me like Zorc was yesterday. Everyone expected me to be this great, wise Pharaoh when from my perspective, I’d spent the last two years playing ridiculously high-stakes card games and tagging along on your trips to Burger World. I… wasn’t sure if I belonged.”

Yuugi is leaning into that hand on his back, not quite as absently as Atem had put it there. He picks up Atem’s free hand and starts to play with it a little as he ponders this new information. “…huh. I guess I never thought about it like that. I didn't know anything was wrong until you - until you saved me again. I expected that with your memories back, you’d fit right in.”

Atem slides his hand along Yuugi’s, intertwining their fingers as he continues. Yuugi’s surprised to hear him sound  _sad_. Wistful, even. “No. It didn’t feel like home.” He squeezes Yuugi’s hand lightly. “Not to mention I was missing you, too, partner. That might have been the hardest. It was like…”

Yuugi knows all too well. “…a hole in your head?”

Now Atem looks up, meeting his gaze with surprise. “Exactly.  _Exactly_ like that. Like something that was always part of me had vanished. I’d turn to say something, and it would take a moment to realize I was talking to the air.”

Yuugi smiles, bittersweet at their shared understanding of such an awful feeling. “I guess people really aren’t meant to be connected like we were, huh? Too hard to let go.”

Atem’s response is firm, his natural confidence returning. “I don’t know, but that doesn’t really matter to me. ‘Meant to’ or not, I wouldn’t give those memories up for anything, partner. Memories of you or any of our friends, but  **especially**  you.”

Yuugi swallows, slightly awed by the fierceness of that statement. Well! He certainly feels appreciated. He croaks, “Y-Yeah. Me either, other half.” The joke doesn’t seem overly sappy just now.

“Yuugi. I can’t guarantee that the world won’t try to pull us apart again.” Yuugi is pinned by the warm weight of Atem’s gaze, that strength which is his birthright. “But if it does, this time I won’t be walking away. I’ll be fighting with every step to get back… to get home.” Those eyes soften then, an adoring look that Yuugi suspects only he ever gets to see. “I won’t accept losing you twice.”

Yuugi leans forward until their foreheads touch, and shivers a little with the intimacy of it. Something about this feels… powerful. Lasting. “That makes two of us.”

Neither of them say anything for the next few minutes, content to breathe each other’s air and settle. Yuugi closes his eyes. Eventually the heavy atmosphere passes, and Yuugi feels nothing but content to be this close. Atem’s quiet sigh of satisfaction suggests he feels the same.

Then the ex-Pharaoh speaks, sounding thoughtful. “You know…”

Yuugi’s still got his eyes closed, and yet he can hear the smirk. Intuition warns him that he’s not going to like whatever Atem says next. He takes the bait anyway. “Hmm?”

“If you were that desperate for a piece of this,” Yuugi refuses to look at the gesture Atem is undoubtedly making right now, he _won’t_ give him the satisfaction, “you could always have asked Kaiba for some alone time with that A.I.– ”

Atem is interrupted by the swift justice of a pillow to the face. It’s a safe bet that he doesn’t really mind.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of great writers whose work inspired me to make my own. Especially [PhoebeDelos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoebeDelos) whose depiction of Atem and Yuugi in These Days We Celebrate is a huge part of my inspiration for their dynamic in the future.
> 
> One day I will find a pre-reviewer/editor so I don't miss tiny mistakes, but today is not that day.


End file.
